As a Ghost Watches
by EsmeAmelia
Summary: Han's ghost watches over his son, but he's unable to communicate with him.


AN: I don't own Star Wars. This was written as part of a fic exchange with my friend RensKnight. She requested a fic about what Han's ghost thinks while observing the events in her AU fic "Another Set of Eyes." Don't worry, you don't have to read that fic to get this one. The basic jist of that fic is that Kylo captures a young medic and interrogates her for information about the Resistance, but after he Force-probes her mind, their minds accidentally remain connected. Oh, and the prisoner is never given a name in the fic, so she's not named here either.

"As A Ghost Watches"

By EsmeAmelia

It had been a month, but Han still didn't know the rules of being dead.

Of course, it wasn't like he actually sought out other dead people. Long ago Luke had told him that he'd had conversations with dead Jedi, but the _last_ thing he needed right now was to talk to a Jedi.

A Jedi would probably tell him to abandon his son.

Han didn't know if it was because Ben had murdered him or just because he didn't want to leave his son, but all his time since dying had been spent by Ben's side, as if some invisible line were pulling him along. He saw Ben coordinate ruthless attacks on various planets, saw him mentally torture prisoners for information they didn't have, and all the while Han tried to reach out to his son, but it was as if some barrier had been put between them.

Maybe he was actually in hell.

Yeah, always seeing his son but never being able to talk to him – that sounded like hell.

Though he no longer had a body, he still remembered the pain when that lightsaber pierced through his chest. Sometimes the memory was so vivid that he almost thought he was back on the bridge and found himself reaching out to touch his son again. Was it normal for ghosts to remember their deaths like that?

 _Ghost_ – he still had trouble pairing that word with himself, though that's what he was. What he'd be forever. Forever - _that_ word would probably make him tremble if he still had a body, but when he thought of that he'd remind himself to take death one day at a time. He had all the time in the galaxy to get used to it, after all.

There was one thing that gave him a little bit of hope, though it was something completely unexpected. That prisoner – the young, unlicensed medic from Dantooine – Ben treated her differently from the others. In fact, after keeping her in a cell for a few days, he'd actually given her a job in the Finalizer's medcenter, though Han didn't know why. Something about her seemed to make his son uncomfortable. In fact, there were times when they just stared at each other as if some silent conversation was going on between them. Maybe she reminded Ben of his old life.

Or maybe she was Force-sensitive.

If Han still had a body, he would have tensed up – he was still getting used to not having bodily reactions to things. If she were Force-sensitive, maybe Ben had some plan with her. Since he couldn't have Rey as his apprentice, maybe he thought this girl could be his apprentice now. Why else would he give someone who so clearly despised the First Order a job?

Dammit, why couldn't Han _talk_ to him?

Ben was sleeping right now, his limbs occasionally twitching as if he were in a disturbing dream. Han missed sleep. He missed food. Hell, he missed _breath._ Maybe there were some people who thought needing food and sleep in order to function was an inconvenience – probably those Jedi ghosts thought that – but damn, what he wouldn't give for a tender nerf steak and a long nap. Stuff that was _normal._ Maybe he could even forget he was dead if he could do those normal living-person things.

Then it occurred to him. He might not _need_ sleep anymore, but did that mean he _couldn't_ sleep? He wasn't sure. It would sure be nice if he could make his afterlife resemble regular life.

Han gently, gently lay down on the bunk next to his son, careful not to wake him, then he remembered that he no longer had physical substance so of course he wouldn't wake him. He didn't know whether to chide himself for being stupid or be grateful that he'd momentarily forgotten he was dead.

Ben's face was inches away from his. Despite the darkness, Han could see his son's troubled face – maybe because he could see in the dark now that he was dead or maybe because his own ghostly form produced its own light. It occurred to him that he didn't know what he looked like as a ghost. The wrinkles and spots on his hands were gone – did that mean he looked young again? Could he choose his age? Again, he didn't know the rules. Maybe sometime he really should find another dead person to talk to.

He laid his ghost hand on his son's cheek, much like he had done in his last moments alive. "Hey Ben," he whispered, though the sleeping man didn't react. "Hope you're havin' good dreams." What else could he say? He'd tried to talk Ben into coming home and look how _that_ worked out.

His eyes closed, which actually felt good. Even if he couldn't technically sleep, just blacking out the outside world helped him feel a little better about being dead . . .

Then suddenly his eyes opened and he was no longer in his son's quarters.

Instead, he was standing on the bridge of the Finalizer, which was completely empty except for Ben, staring out at the stars, his back to Han.

Han wanted to swallow, but his deceased status denied him that ability. Had he slept or teleported? Since Ben was here, had he teleported through time as well as space? Was that something dead people could do? Hell if Han knew.

Ben stood unnaturally still, as if he were trying to find the meaning of life out in the endless stars. Well, he sure wouldn't find it there. Han hadn't found the meaning of life even when _dead._ Hell, there didn't seem to be any meaning in death either. You live your life and then you die and then you follow your fallen son around while unable to communicate with him. Some life. Some death.

Han wondered where Leia was now. Maybe he should try to see her – maybe she could even see _him_ – but he had no idea how to leave, as if he were tethered to his son.

How long was Ben going to stand there? Something about the way he was standing made Han uncomfortable, though he had no idea why.

He also didn't know why he started talking to his son.

"Ben, are you feeling all right?"

Suddenly Ben whirled around, his eyes full of shock and fury. "You . . ." he gasped out, blinking as if he were seeing a ghost – _seeing_ a ghost, he _saw_ Han. " _You!"_

Han held up his hands in a diplomatic gesture. "Yeah, it's me. I know it's weird – but believe me, it's weirder for me than it is for you . . ."

Ben's breath was shaking, his hand trembling over the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

"What," said Han, "you gonna stick that thing through me _again?_ If it makes you feel better, go ahead – what else can it do to me?"

Ben snarled at his father. "What are you doing here?"

"If you want the truth, I don't actually know, but since you can see me now we might as well have a talk . . ."

Ben suddenly started hyperventilating. "She . . . she'll see you . . ."

"What?"

"She'll see you . . ." he gasped out, doubling over as if his stomach hurt. "Get out of here . . . she'll see you . . ."

"What're you talkin' about? Who'll see me?"

Then suddenly, there she was. Young, brown curly hair, wide eyes, dressed in the black robes of a Knight of Ren even though she was in actuality no such thing.

The medic prisoner.

She stared at Han, her breath short, blinking at him as if she didn't know if he was real. What, could everyone see ghosts now?

"Who are you?" she asked.

Han didn't get a chance to answer. Ben's hand shot out and an invisible thrust pushed Han away. The ghost felt himself falling, falling, falling . . .

And he was back on Ben's bed, once again next to his sleeping son. He wasn't gasping or panting like he would if he were alive, but that made it even more unsettling. What the hell just happened? He'd just seen . . . what, exactly? Was that a dream?

If so, _whose_ dream was it?

Next to him, Ben's eyes were twitching in a rapid fashion. Maybe he was still in the dream – if that was his dream. Was that what happened? Did Han somehow enter his son's dream?

And what was the prisoner doing there?

" _She'll see you."_

Again Han wished he was able to swallow when dead. _"She'll see you."_ It was a dream, but Ben had known the prisoner would appear and was _afraid_ of her seeing Han.

Why?

Han lay there, gazing up into the darkness, trying to piece together what had just happened. _"She'll see you."_ Those words kept repeating themselves in his mind – or whatever passed for a mind in his ghost state.

After Ben mind-interrogated that prisoner, he treated her differently from the others.

They stared at each other as if their minds were far away.

What if . . . what if their minds were _still_ connected?

No, no, that was impossible, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

He'd once thought many things were impossible. He'd once though the Force was impossible. He'd once thought mind-reading was impossible.

He'd once thought it was impossible to retain consciousness after death.

All right, so if Ben's mind _was_ still connected to the prisoner, what did that mean? Could they read each other's thoughts?

Did they share dreams?

If they shared dreams, did that mean the prisoner _actually_ saw Han?

Han rolled over to face his son, whose eyes still twitched, and he wondered if either Ben or the prisoner would remember their dreams tomorrow. "Ben?" he whispered. "I don't really know what just happened, but if you really got mind-connected with that woman . . . damn, I don't know what the hell that's like. Maybe I can't help you – like how I couldn't help you fight the dark side." Could Ben hear him in his sleep? "I wish I _could_ have helped you. Maybe if I'd had the Force I could've understood better and we could've worked together to help you resist the dark side. I wish . . . I wish I'd been Force-sensitive."

It was something he never once said when he was alive. He never wanted the weird powers Force-sensitive people had or whatever it was that invaded his son's mind – if he was completely honest with himself, he was terrified of the Force – but if he could have saved Ben from the dark side by being Force-sensitive, then he would conquer that fear.

But even when dead, he couldn't make himself Force-sensitive.

He was still trapped outside of his son's essence.

"I'm sorry, Ben," he whispered. "I can't understand what you went through . . . what you're _going_ through. But maybe . . . maybe sometime I could visit your dreams again. Maybe then we could talk."

But would Ben be _willing_ to talk? If he had someone else linking dreams with him, he would probably be even less likely to talk than he was on the bridge.

However, since the prisoner had seen him, maybe he could reach _her._

Han lay by his son's side for the rest of the night, thinking, contemplating, wondering. _Ben, can I ever reach you?_

 _Can she?_

 _Can we?_

THE END


End file.
